


Q's Little Tie

by badwolfbadwolf



Series: Endings and Beginnings [2]
Category: James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Breathplay, Creative use of a tie, Dirty Talk, Hair-pulling, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:05:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfbadwolf/pseuds/badwolfbadwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ve got to do something about your smart little mouth.”  James fingered the tie, ideas formulating.</p><p>AU - Part Two - Q is a massage therapist with a clever mouth, and James finds some creative uses for a tie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Q's Little Tie

**Author's Note:**

> Part Two of my massage AU in which Q is a massage therapist with a clever mouth. I'm imagining Q is basically the same age as in Skyfall. 
> 
> Also, I'm now on [tumblr](http://badwolfbadwolff.tumblr.com/) as badwolfbadwolff. Feel free to ask me all kinds of dumb stuff. I love that shit.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

James stared at his wardrobe, wondering what in the hell he was supposed to wear when he didn’t know where he was going.  Probably some god awful nightclub for people ridiculously younger than him.  Or maybe Q’s flat.  He made a quick decision, pulling out dark jeans and a tight fitting grey tshirt with an eagle painted across the front.  His mind flicked to Q’s succinct text and the content look the boy had plastered on his face as James had left yesterday.  Just thinking of the delicate neck reddened by fingertips and the enthusiastic tongue caused James to harden slightly in anticipation.  He hoped he wouldn’t have to suffer through drinks and dancing before pinning Q against a wall and fucking his brains out.  He stuffed himself in his pants, yanked on the jeans and pulled the zip up carefully.  Then he walked swiftly towards the door, swiped his keys from his counter and slammed it shut loudly behind him, feeling the familiar ache in his shoulder as it jarred with the movement.

 

The address led him to a nightclub where the music was pounding out through the speakers onto the street and reverberating into his car.  He felt the tremors of the bass run through him, idly wondering what Q would be wearing and if he’d let him fuck him in public.  The thought cheered him.  He wanted to hold that neck in his hands, crush him to his body, own him.  In front of everyone.  Bond shook off the possessive instinct and pulled his car in reverse to parallel park, hoping to God that it would remain unscathed by the random drunks already milling around on the street.

Once inside the club he searched for Q’s silhouette, fending off hipsters and drunk girls that were at least fifteen years his junior.  Finally he found him draped across the bar, chatting with the bartender and looking upward through the fringe of his hair to bat long eyelashes at the man.  His tight leather pants clung to his legs and arse as he leaned forward, the curves delicious and sharp.  A midnight-blue madras shirt hung around his frame, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, and a skinny navy tie hung loose around his neck.  James felt desire and possessiveness streak through him as he stalked up and put an arm around the thin waist, turning him around and drawing him forward sharply as Q yelped in surprise.  He pulled the boy close, feeling his breath on his cheek, the other hand searching for the nape of his neck and latching on.

“What are you doing?” James asked, voice low and controlled while his fingers tightened.

“Just talking,” Q replied, his tone petulant and mouth turned down, but his body submitted under the pressure and melted into James.

“I don’t like it.”  The fingers tightened more.

“I’m not _with_ you, James,” Q bit out, his lips mere inches from James’ drawn mouth.

“If you want my cock, you will do what I say.”  He pulled Q off the bar stool and flush against him, allowing his hard length to press against Q’s leather-clad hip.  Q bit his lip and moved his hips forward, arching into the agent’s body.  His gaze flickered to James’ lips and back up to hard steely-blue eyes. 

Even after everything that had happened previously, with Q's lips and tongue all over James' body, they still hadn’t kissed, and it was making James hungry and desperate.  He licked his lips to prolong the moment, debating on torturing himself by waiting or just mashing their lips together right this second.  He felt the music pounding around them and a headache coming on.  Christ, he needed a drink.

They were interrupted by the bartender coming back to plop down two glasses on the bar top, relieving him of a decision.  Apparently Q had ordered for him.  Well, that earned him a little reprieve, he supposed.  He let go of Q’s neck and waist and grabbed the tumbler, sniffing it before taking a drink.  Whiskey.  Good quality.  He smiled at Q, hoping he wasn’t showing too much teeth.  What was this kid doing to him?

“Good, yes?” Q said, his lips around his glass, sipping the same amber liquid while he examined James with an unreadable expression from behind his glasses.

“Yes.  Thanks.”  Then, after a pause, “Sorry.”  James moved away from Q, suddenly uncomfortable with the way he was acting.  First off, he had known this boy for only an hour.  He didn’t even know his last name.  Or what the hell Q stood for.  Second, he had let him suck him off during what was supposed to be a therapeutic massage, and it had been spectacular.  And third, he could not stop thinking about burying his hands in the thick messy hair and holding him down.  When the fuck did he get so violent?  Well, violent during sex.  James set down the glass and signaled the bartender for another, thinking that he needed to get plastered and _right now_ please, thanks. 

The second drink came quickly and then the third, and James sipped at it this time, tugging Q by the wrist over to a table on the edge of the room as he felt the liquor beginning to buzz around in his brain slightly.  They fell into the booth’s deep seats, Q leaning backwards against the cushion with his knees brushing Bond’s while the agent turned to survey the room.  The dance floor had grown crowded with grinding couples and a few glow sticks.  James grimaced, thinking how this place was a security nightmare and that he was far too old for these games.  He turned to Q and began to run a finger up the skinny tie until it rested against the knot, saying “You’re not going to make me dance, are you?” 

Q turned to smirk at him, pushing hair out of his eyes and pressing his chest slightly closer so James’ hand was more firmly against him.  “Why?  Are you too old for that?” 

James immediately grasped the tie in a fist and yanked Q closer.  The younger man’s eyes widened very slightly but then his features settled back into their smug, superior look. 

“I’ve got to do something about your smart little mouth.”  James fingered the tie, ideas formulating.  His eyes slid over Q’s face, taking in the details.  It was dark in the club but he could still see the glint in his hazel eyes.  The little shit knew exactly what he was doing.  James’ instincts reared up to meet the challenge.

“Finish your drink.  I’ve had enough of this horseshit.  We’re going.”  James released the tie and Q raised an eyebrow at him while chugging the rest of the contents of the glass.  James did the same, watching the swallowing throat and remembering what it felt like around his cock.  He wasn’t nearly drunk enough but he could remedy that at home.  He followed Q’s lanky gait out the door and onto the street where it was mercifully quieter, though quite a bit cooler.  He had a split-second moment of insecurity as he wondered what on earth he was doing with this young pup in this trendy neighbourhood, but then Q turned around and cocked his eyebrow at him with a little sinful grin and he forgot what he was thinking about.

“I took a cab.  Did you drive?” Q asked, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his impossibly tight pants.

“Yes.  Over here,” James said with a nod of his head.  He walked in the direction of the car, Q a step behind him, thinking about how this was the oddest encounter he’d ever had.  Most times he did some wining and dining, followed by some smooth talking and maybe some petting in the car.  He didn’t think Q would let him do that unless he made him.  The thought turned him on ridiculously.

When they had rounded the corner and reached the silver Aston Martin, James took Q by the wrists and pushed him up against the car door.  Q’s delicate hands slipped out of James’ grip and moved up his arms to hold on to his biceps, his fingers pressing in, reminding Bond of how talented and strong those fingers were.  Maybe he could put them to good use later.  He looked at the boy caged in by his arms, body trapped, lips quirked up.  His black-rimmed glasses reflected the streetlight and James lifted one hand to push them up and back to rest on the top of his head.  He stared into Q’s eyes, looking at the deep greens mixed with hazel and gold.  Fuck, they were mesmerizing.  James moved even closer, his breath tickling against Q’s cheek, his lips just barely grazing the whiskers on his cheek.  He wanted to kiss the boy so bad.

A wolf whistle from behind broke his reverie and he pulled back slightly to yell “Piss off” over his shoulder.  But in that short time Q had wormed his way out of James’ arms and was pulling open the door, sliding in quickly.  James cursed under his breath as he rounded to the driver’s side, torn between pulling Q into the backseat and having a snog and a grope or going straight home.  He decided on home, visions of tying Q up in his bedroom becoming vivid.  He turned on the car and it roared to life while Q fiddled with the radio buttons.  He found a punk alternative station with a driving beat and turned up the sound, bobbing his head to the music.  James shot him a look and turned it down.

“You listen to that crap, seriously?”

Q returned the steely gaze, irritation lacing his voice as he said, "How old _are_ you?"

James looked at the road again, his foot stomping on the pedal and speeding through the night.  He was probably under the legal blood-alcohol limit.  Probably.  The drive back was quiet but not uncomfortable.  James didn’t even know why they’d had to pretend with drinks and a club.  He knew it was just sex.  Even if he kind of liked the funny little nose and the way Q’s lips turned up in a smug smirk.  And his clever tongue that was talented in more ways than one. 

They arrived at James’ flat, the short elevator ride fraught with sexual tension and anticipation as they took turns glancing at each other and looking away.  At the top floor James led the way to the door on the end, turning the key and pushing open the heavy door with his shoulder.  They stepped inside and James watched Q’s reaction, somehow wanting to impress the boy.  It was expensively furnished in greys and whites, with a kitchen to the right with a gleaming black marble countertop and a living area with a mahogany table and plush leather furniture.  Q stepped in and flopped down on the couch gracelessly, looking around.

“You actually live here?  There’s no pictures or anything.”

James grimaced, deflated.  “I’m away on business a lot.”  Working at the office as a massage therapist, he knew Q had an idea of what his job was like.  But only an idea.  James moved across the room to a table with glass decanters, pouring two drinks and handing one to Q.  He sat down next to him and took a small sip while Q swallowed the liquor down quickly without tasting it. 

“You’re supposed to sip it,” Bond said, annoyed. 

Q just made a face and set the glass down.  James put his down too, using his forward motion of his body to move into Q’s personal space.  They had been hovering around each other all evening and it was driving him mad.  Every time he came near Q would brush against him but dance away and he’d had enough of the cock tease bullshit.  Q looked up at James’ face, seeing the sharp desire and no-nonsense look painted across his features.

James felt anticipation thread through his body as he inched closer, his hands reaching out to grasp Q by the hair and drag him forward.  They moved closer, James’ eyes sliding closed as their lips finally, _finally_ , made contact.  James tasted the liquor and Q’s soft skin, mouthing against him and sliding his tongue inside.  Q licked back at him, his tongue playful while his hands reached to grasp James around the waist.  And then James tightened his fingers, feeling desire swell through him as if a dam had been broken.  He pressed his lips more firmly to Q’s, rotating his body so he was pressing the boy against the couch.  One hand slid hotly down his neck and torso and over a bony hip before resting on his knee and prying his leg open.  Q moaned into his mouth and James smiled, giving him a little nip on the bottom lip while his hand moved upward teasingly.

“You got to have your hands all over me last time,” James began as he licked across Q’s chin up to his earlobe.  His breath whispered hotly into the ear.  “My turn to take you apart now.”

Q closed his eyes and tilted his head back, his throat making a noise that sounded like a purr.  “Yes.  Want your gorgeous cock.  All of it.  Want you to fuck me now.”

James pulled back, one hand still fisted in the dark locks, the other holding Q’s knee open.  “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”  His voice was dark and smooth and he moved forward to bite against Q’s neck, feeling the boy stiffen and lengthen beneath him. 

“James.”  Q pushed his hips forward and whined.  “Fuck.” 

James growled against the skin, pleased at hearing his name from those lips and the already breathy tone.  “Such a dirty little mouth.  What should I do with it?”  He nipped further up the skin, teeth biting into his earlobe while he pulled back with his other hand to bare Q’s neck.  “Should I fuck it again?  Or maybe take your little tie, put it between your teeth.  Watch you mouth against it with your tongue as I fuck your little arse.  Hmm?”

Q was breathing harder now, pushing his hips upward, trying to get James to move his hand that last little bit so he would be touching his straining cock.  James tugged on Q’s hair, moving down to run his lips and tongue and teeth over the boy’s adam’s apple and throat.  He felt the swallowing motion against his lips and he smiled into the hot skin.  “No.  I think I want to save it for your neck.  Wrap it tight like a nice little collar, and pull.”

Q was struggling now, trying to buck up with his hips but James held him tightly.  He winced as his hair was pulled backward and his neck and head were held against the back pillows of the couch.  James released Q’s knee but slid in between his legs, pressing his large body on top of Q, rubbing their groins together.  They both groaned but the position was awkward, and James couldn’t press Q down flat like he wanted.  He pulled himself up to standing, using the tie to yank Q up against him and into a rough kiss.

“Bedroom.  Need a flat surface on which to fuck you.”  He continued to hold Q by the tie, kissing him and walking him backwards until his legs hit the bed and they were tumbling onto the sheets.  Their lips came together, teeth nipping, hands groping, while they fought for dominance.  James let Q pin him down so he was straddling his thighs.  The skilled hands traced up and down James’ sides and ribs and then pulled off his tshirt with a harsh tug.

“You’re so fucking big,” Q said with a smirk, tracing each ridge of muscle in James stomach.  James grinned and propped himself up on his forearms, seeking out Q’s lips.

“Is that what you like, Q?  Someone to overpower you?”  He wrapped his hand in the tie again, pulling Q’s body down on him.  “Get on top of you?”  He pushed his hips upward causing Q to gasp.  “Control you?”

Q just short of shrugged and resumed kissing James with a pleased gurgle in his throat, pushing his hips down desperately.  “What can I say?  I like cock.”

“I bet you do.  I bet you’re such a slut for it.”

“Yeah.  Yes.”  Q was kissing down his naked collarbone now, over James nipples, sucking them into his mouth and biting.  And suddenly James had had enough.  He sat upright, causing Q to fall backward on his haunches.  Q gave a little yelp as his bum hit his heels while James quickly moved forward to catch the slim waist before he toppled backward.  He grabbed Q by the hips and pushed him upward until he was standing next to the bed, slightly dazed, glasses askew, lips red as a cherry.  Then James was undoing the zip and shoving the leather pants down while Q worked at the buttons of his own shirt fervently, unable to move fast enough.  They ripped the clothes off, tossing them on the floor, until Q was standing there naked and panting, save for the navy tie and his glasses.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” James murmured, low and gruff, while Q grinned at him, pleased.  James stood to shuck his jeans and pants, eyes on Q, watching his reaction as all of his pale skin was revealed.  Q licked his lips in approval and James moved closer, hovering in Q’s space without actually kissing or touching.  He was slightly taller than the brunette, but his muscular body seemed powerful and overshadowing next to the slim planes and sharp edges of Q’s form.  James brought his hands up to run over Q’s shoulders, down his arms, circling the small wrists so his thumb and forefinger touched.  He tightened his grip, feeling a faint squeeze of delicate bones.  “I could break you.”  James’ voice was incredibly rough.

Q breathed in and out, the warm air brushing against James’ cheek.  “Yes.”  God, what did this boy have, a death wish?  And what the fuck was he doing, saying this shit anyways?  Q arched forward, bringing their bodies together.  “Do it.  Break me,” he whispered.

James felt the blood rush to his cock and his mind come to a startling clarity.  Suddenly Q was the lamb and he was the lion and everything else fell away.  His baser instincts took over and he reached up and bodily pushed Q down on the bed.  He took only a brief second to take in Q’s sprawled limbs before he was climbing on top of him, pinning him down with his weight, moving forward until his cock was dragging along Q’s lips.  Q obediently pushed his tongue out and licked, dragging it roughly along the underside while Bond grunted above him and wrapped his hands in Q’s thick hair.  James angled his hips to push his cock inside of Q’s mouth, closing his eyes against the sudden heat and wetness.  Q tried to shuffle up on the bed to get a better angle but James was heavy and unmoving, enjoying the movements of the small body pinned between his legs.

Fuck, his little mouth felt good, the vibrations of his moans pulsating through his cock and straight into his blood.  James pulled out before it became too much, vastly enjoying Q’s disappointed look and the smack of his lips as he licked them in frustration.  He slid down Q’s body, rubbing against him before moving off of him.  “On your knees, now.”  He looked down at Q, smiling predatorily.  “Unless you want me to make you.”

Q groaned and slowly moved up, his movements languid.

“Not fast enough,” James said, grasping a bony hip and pulling him over quickly.  Q’s body was pressed flat into the mattress and he rutted his hips forward a bit.

“I said knees, love,” James said with a slight edge to his voice, one hand coming forward to give Q’s arse a resounding smack.  Q scrambled to get his long limbs in order, finally getting into the requested position and quickly pulling off his glasses before turning to look over his shoulder with wide eyes.

“Such a lovely little arse,” James said, his fingers running everywhere, over the curves and the bones and the white skin flushing pink.  He slid a finger between round cheeks, watching Q clench and quiver involuntarily.  James pushed forward until he was inside to the first knuckle, the dry pad of his finger rough against the sensitive skin.

“Jesus, fuck,” Q ground out as he shifted his weight and bowed his back, his angular shoulder blades becoming prominent.  “You’re going too slow.”

James felt himself growing irritated.  He pushed in further with his finger and wriggled it around while Q grit his teeth.  Then he slid his other hand up over the long back and ridges of his spine before reaching the back of the silk tie.  James grasped it in his hand, jerking backwards just enough until Q was tilting his chin back and swallowing audibly against the fabric.

“What did I say about telling me what to do, hm?”  James pulled out his finger and gave another firm, open-palmed spank while Q quivered against the hold on his throat.  James pulled back even more and Q gave out a breathless and strangled moan as his body drew up.  James fiddled one-handed with the lube that was placed on the nightstand, messily spilling some into his palm and rubbing it against Q.  Then he was plunging one finger in while Q yelped out and spread his legs further.  He added a second quickly, enjoying the squirming body he was controlling from both ends.

“Yes, please,” Q was gasping, voice quiet and tight.  “Please, fuck.”  He keened as James pressed his fingers downward.  “Please fucking fuck me before I come right now, goddammit!”  Q’s voice was rough and ragged, his breathing shallow.

James growled and yanked up on the tie, pulling Q’s body upward against him with a wrenching motion while his fingers slipped out.  And then James had his cock pressed against Q’s arse, his stomach pressed into Q’s back, one hand still wrapped in the silk while the other grasped onto a thinly-muscled thigh.

“You’re such a slut,” James whispered filthily, kissing and biting against Q’s neck and behind his ear.  Q shuddered, his hands groping around desperately for James, landing on his thick thighs while his vision started to shimmer slightly.

“Yes,” he choked, broken.  “Please.”

James moved his hand between their bodies, spreading Q’s arse and sliding upward into him.  The motion was slow and difficult as Q clenched hotly around him.  James let go of Q’s throat to grasp both hips as he fucked inside with little motions until he was seated all the way in while Q made little grinding motions with his hips.  Then James began to move, thrusting upward while picking up Q with brute strength each time and then pulling him against him hard.  Both men groaned heavily, the bed creaking under the slow and deliberate movements.   Q ran his hands over his own body, over his throat, down over tight nipples and a shuddering stomach, until he was grasping his cock to stroke it in time with James’ deep thrusts.

And then James was pushing down between Q’s shoulder blades, following him down until he was halfway pressed on the bed.  Thick fingers brushed along Q’s nape, running along the reddened lines and slight burn of skin from the tie before grasping on again and pulling backward.  Q inhaled sharply, his entire body pressed downward by James’ heavy weight while the upward pull on his neck increased.  James began to hasten the speed of his thrusts, changing his angle into a downward stroke while Q twitched and moaned before becoming gradually tighter and tighter until his body was completely stilled and stretched.

James listened to the labored breathing, pulling back even further as Q tensed up, his eyes screwed tight and his crimson lips parted against the pillow as he drew in shallow breaths.

“Jesus, Q,” James whispered, watching Q’s cheeks begin to fade in colour while he licked his lips and moaned silently.  The boy choked out a gasp and James suddenly felt incredibly powerful at how completely he owned him in that moment.  A wave of pleasure washed over him, mixed with shame, but he was too far gone to separate the feelings.  He began moving faster and faster and then was crying out until he was coming, coming so fucking hard and yanking Q’s rigid body against him violently.  He felt the sheer pleasure roar through his blood as he held on tightly with each spurt, loving the feel of the twitching, thin body he held controlled beneath him.  And then he let go and heard a strangled gasp from Q as he was finally able to breathe unrestricted.  James sagged against him, surprised at what the orgasm had taken out of him.  Q was still pinned under him, body tight as a bow-string and struggling to regain equilibrium as his breath came out in harsh pants.

James pulled out, loving the sight of come seeping across the spread thighs and Q’s prone form spread out unmoving beneath him.  He took a moment to just enjoy the sight, then pushed his finger inside meeting no resistance while Q twitched violently.  James chuckled and reached beneath the body to play with Q’s cock before taking it firmly in his hand and jerking him off.  His fingers inside pushed down sharply and Q let out a sob, tears streaking down his face, as he came loudly into James’ hand and the mattress.  His body tensed and convulsed for long moments while James held him and stroked him until he was spent and exhausted and completely boneless.  And then James was removing his hand, patting along his back in a soothing pattern and kissing against his ear while Q breathed with a horribly raspy sound.

After a few moments James dropped his hands and rolled to the side while Q remained absolutely still, unable to move from where he was pressed into the mattress.  James looked him over, seeing the red and vicious looking marks on his neck, the arse pink from his smacks, and the sweat-drenched skin that was still twitching in after-shocks.  He swallowed, a bit nervous.

“Are you, um, alright Q?” he asked, the power completely gone out of his voice.

Q rolled to the side and groaned, his hand coming up to finger his throat, fitting his fingers onto the marks.  He smiled dreamily while his eyes closed.  “Yeah.  I will be.  You’re… good at that.”  His voice was gravely and dry, and it made James wince and wonder at his own proclivities.  And about why he had come the hardest he ever had in recent memory while holding the boy’s throat… life… in his hands.  And Q had wanted him to, had begged him to do it.  James didn’t want to think about it, and pushed the thoughts down.  His days were too crowded with life and death and guilt to fuck around with this nonsense in his personal time, too. 

James brought his hands up to run through his own hair and then drag across his mouth in a nervous gesture.  Q had rolled to his back and had closed his eyes, the look on his face seemingly completely relaxed.  James realized he knew nothing about him, except for a few insignificant details.  And why he seemed to get off on the pain, who the fuck knew?  Q’s breathing began to deepen and James swore mentally.  Was he going to have to let him stay the night now?  James didn’t _do_ that sort of thing.  Too bad it was his flat.  Otherwise he could sneak out in about a half an hour. 

Q suddenly let out a soft snore, and James rolled his eyes, getting up to pad to the bathroom and clean himself off.  His muscles were happily tired and sore in that pleasant buzzing way, and when he came back Q had tucked himself under a sheet and was on his side, lips slightly parted.  The discolored skin was still very visible underneath the dark fabric of the tie, a stark contrast to the white skin wrapped in white sheets.  James reached out to tuck back a curly wave of hair behind the prominent ear, looking over the beautiful features that were softened with sleep.  He abruptly pulled his hand back, wondering what on earth was getting into him.  He settled down into the sheets and turned out the light. 

Well, maybe Q’d want to fuck again in the morning.  He probably would, little shit.  He felt Q slide his arse against his body and the agent rolled over, his arms moving of their own accord to wrap around the thin chest.  Seriously, what _was_ he doing?  James Bond didn’t do post-coital spooning.  He let go and turned away, willing his mind to focus on the remaining buzz of alcohol and the accompanying numbness as he drifted off to sleep. 

When he awoke he found a tangle of limbs pressed against him and smiling eyes peering at him from behind a mop of extremely messy hair.  Fuck, he was cute like that.  And that was the moment when James knew that he was really in trouble.


End file.
